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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26489884">the one that got away</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/8glassesofmilkin3minutes/pseuds/8glassesofmilkin3minutes'>8glassesofmilkin3minutes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>in another life [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Red White &amp; Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Henry's parents are homophobic in this one be warned, High School Friends AU, High School Friends to Adult Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Lost and Found, M/M, Underage Drinking, a happy ending as always dw, alex is an overachiever and has some anxiety, fighting homophobes in class, henry has been thru tough stuff and is a little reckless and spontaneous at the appropriate times, “they-reached-for-the-popcorn-at-the-same-time-and-their-hands-brushed”</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:33:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,457</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26489884</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/8glassesofmilkin3minutes/pseuds/8glassesofmilkin3minutes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex spends a night reminiscing over his long-lost senior year best friend, realizing their relationship might have been different than he thought. Then, fate steps in.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>in another life [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1823899</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>173</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>💞 heavily inspired by katy perry’s song of the same name 💞</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>June told him that writing in a journal would help ground himself when he got too lost in his own head. When he said he had no idea where to start, she said, "Try your childhood." </p><p>He wasn't expecting that. He was expecting her to tell him to vent about the pressures of his work, or what's rewarding about it. He thought maybe she'd tell him to make lists, lists of what he's achieved and what goals he's still working towards. He thought, well, Alex thought June was going to tell him to write something cheesy that'd make him feel like a Pinterest mom. </p><p>He should've known better than that. </p><p>June knows him better than that.</p><p>And so when Alex started to write about his childhood, he divided it into phases, ever the analytical mind. He wasn't too picky about making the phases follow a certain theme. The whole point of this was not to overthink it. Some phases overlapped, and two of them were just pre and post his parents' divorce. </p><p>But when it came time to define that chunk of time, the one that included a lot of twelfth grade, minus the beginning, and the summer before college, Alex could only call it <em>Henry</em>.  And it was strange, because Alex hadn't thought of Henry for a long, long time. But after getting accepted on early action into Georgetown, riding the high of being just a few months away from D.C., about to cruise through second semester of senior year, thinking he knew exactly what the next few years would have in store for him, life threw a curveball at Alex.</p><p>Life threw <em>Henry</em> at Alex.</p><p>Alex didn't think of Henry as a curveball then, or even really ponder over the spontaneity of his arrival. He was a new student, sure. Someone who transferred at an odd time of year. Someone insanely interesting and easy to get along with. But as Alex writes about him now, he realizes Henry was the only friend of his who he was really <em>close</em> to at the time, besides his sister who doesn't technically count, and, this thought startles a laugh out of Alex: Alex might be a completely different person now if it weren't for him. So Alex writes about him.</p><p>Alex writes about the time they both went to Liam’s party. It wasn’t a huge house party, but it wasn’t an intimate hangout. It was maybe thirty people, people Liam genuinely liked, or his close friends’ friends. Henry may always have been more shy and reserved, but people liked him, and he liked people, so he was invited. </p><p>It was late at night, when people were just starting to leave. Henry was lying in the middle of the living room floor, a pleasant smile on his face as he watched the music video to whatever song was playing through the house on the big screen TV. Alex plopped himself down right next to him, curling into his side and placing one hand on his own bloated stomach full of a disgraceful amount of chips and dip. </p><p>“Hey,” he said with a grin.</p><p>Henry turned to face him. “Hello.” </p><p>They were very close, and Alex was tipsy. </p><p>“You’re nice to cuddle, did you know that?”</p><p>“I had my suspicions, but I’m glad to have it confirmed.”</p><p>Alex giggled hard, and a loose curl fell into his eye. Henry brushed it off of Alex’s face. His hand lingered. </p><p>“Thanks,” Alex said. “I wouldn’t want to miss this.” He gestured toward Henry’s entire being.</p><p>“What’s <em>this</em>?” Henry asked, copying Alex’s gesture.</p><p>“You. All snazzed up for the occasion. Is that gel in your hair?” He touched a strand of it. </p><p>“Perhaps.”</p><p>“Hmm.” Alex snuggled in closer and rested his head on Henry’s chest.</p><p>“Woah, your heart’s pounding,” Alex said, raising his head. “How much did you drink?”</p><p>“Just a bit.”</p><p>Alex giggled again. “Lightweight.”</p><p>Henry made a noncommittal noise, and again said, “Perhaps.”</p><p> </p><p>Alex writes about the time he said he was having a dull night and Henry showed up in his backyard. </p><p>Alex had gotten a C on his AP Gov test that day. He hadn't gotten a C on a test in years, if ever. But he'd convinced himself that despite being at home sick on two of the days the chapter was taught, it was material he knew well enough not to study for. The result led Alex into an endless spiral of freaking out that Georgetown would revoke his admission over it, despite how many times his mother assured him that was ridiculous. </p><p>Alex received a response from Henry less than twenty minutes after sending his own about his "dull night", and he looked out his window, met by a grinning Henry looking right back up at him. Alex couldn't help but grin at him, too. Alex dragged a ladder out of the shed and he and Henry climbed to the roof, Alex making a quick trip inside to sneak a bottle of liquor out of the kitchen. He and Henry both winced as it hit their throats, neither of them taking more than a few sips each. There was a spattering of stars visible that night. Alex remembers because Henry started to look for constellations, and Alex laughed and nudged him and told him he was ridiculous and a nerd. Henry raised an eyebrow at Alex's hypocrisy. </p><p>It was uncharacteristically chilly for an Austin night that time of year, Alex wearing only a short-sleeved pajama top. And when his teeth started to chatter and the conversation dwindled to a comfortable silence, Henry didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around Alex and hold him tight. </p><p>Alex just closed his eyes, nuzzled his head into Henry's sweater, and breathed.</p><p>Henry’s presence had always helped him breathe.</p><p>But after Alex recalls these incidents in his journal, his mind rolls back to something that happened before all of them. And so he writes about it. Alex writes about the time a student in his and Henry's sociology class made a passing comment that "everything was gay these days" when talking about how a character in his favorite TV show was recently revealed to be queer. Henry spoke up even though he wasn't part of the conversation, which was unlike him. </p><p>Henry, ever the eloquent speaker, told this boy in an even, balanced voice that his remark seriously disregarded the significance of growing LGBT representation in media. The boy shot him a glance and said something dismissive, but Henry demanded his attention. Alex doesn't remember the details of how the conversation escalated, but all he knows is that the more Henry pushed, the more the boy pushed back, his responses becoming increasingly homophobic and both the boys' voices becoming increasingly loud. The teacher was listening in at this point, as was at least half the class, and Alex remembers thinking to himself, <em>you should back him up!</em>, but he couldn't bring himself to get a word out. He was shocked that the other boy was saying what he was saying in the first place.</p><p>Alex wishes he had backed him up.</p><p>Soon the classroom door was slamming shut and Henry was nowhere to be seen, and the boy he'd argued with had an expression on his face like he was the one who'd been wronged. Alex was about to ask the teacher to let him out of the class to follow Henry, never having seen him have an outburst like this and, besides being curious, not wanting Henry to be alone. Wanting to reassure Henry that their classmate was an asshole and that Henry was right and that Alex wishes he'd said something, too. But before Alex could ask the teacher to dismiss him, the bell rang, and students flooded out of the classroom anyway. So Alex set off looking for him, grabbing the bag Henry had left behind on his way out, sliding what was left on Henry's desk into it. Henry's pen went in his pencil case first, though. Henry was always particular about his pens being in his pencil case.</p><p>Henry wasn't at his locker. Henry wasn't in the bathroom nearest to their sociology classroom. Henry wasn't at a water fountain.</p><p>Henry wasn't in the library, and he wasn't at the second nearest bathroom, or the third. Henry wasn't in his current class. </p><p>Passing period was long over at this point. </p><p>But while the thought of an unexcused tardy made Alex's heart do a nervous jump, Henry, alone, upset, was at the forefront of Alex's mind. Everything else could wait. </p><p>Alex stumbled into the locker rooms, his mind dizzy and frantic, huffing and puffing and listening to the sounds of lots of students' laughs and shouts and pounding feet leaking through the closed gym doors. Finally, he pulled out his phone and texted Henry, feeling a little delirious with the knowledge that he didn't think of doing this before scouring the entire school for him.</p><p>
  <em>Where r u???</em>
</p><p>He felt a buzz come from the front pocket of Henry's backpack, which was pressed up against him. Of course, that's why he didn't think of this earlier. Henry's phone was in his backpack, and he knew that. </p><p><em>Only Henry,</em> Alex remembers thinking to himself. Henry was the only student he knew who actually followed the rule about not keeping their phones in their pockets.</p><p>As a last-ditch effort, Alex ventured outside, not even paying a passing thought to the fact that he could get in trouble for leaving mid-day without signing out. Alex didn't expect to find Henry here, he just thought he might as well be thorough in his search, since he was already late far beyond the point that he could charm his teacher out of marking him so. But as Alex wandered dejectedly onto the football field, and was <em>just</em> about to walk away after taking a quick look around, he caught a glimpse of blond hair in the sun. Henry was sitting a few rows away from the topmost row of bleachers. Alex was ecstatic, but increasingly concerned all the same. Henry seemed to have his head in his hands. He looked up, though, as he heard Alex approaching. </p><p>Henry's face was still flushed. </p><p>"Brought your stuff," Alex said gently, placing Henry's backpack on the bleacher next to him, then immediately realizing it might have been a dumb and minimally comforting thing to say. </p><p>"Thanks," Henry said, a little surprise in his tone. Alex had the sense to realize he was thanking him for coming, more than bringing his bag. Alex scooted close to Henry's side, leaving only a few inches of space between them.</p><p>"I—" Alex opened his mouth. Henry looked at him and Alex realized with a start that his cheeks were streaked with what looked like tear stains. "That was fucked. What Marcus was saying to you."</p><p><em>Marcus! That was his name.</em> Alex celebrates his epiphany for a moment before pressing his pen against the paper again. He flexes his wrist.</p><p>Henry just nodded slightly and looked back down. Alex was, astonishingly, at a loss for words. Whereas he'd always been the one to say too much...</p><p>After a pause, "I didn't realize you cared so much about like, gay rights stuff."</p><p>Henry furrowed his brow, and Alex realized that sentence came out completely differently than he'd intended.</p><p>He scrambled to correct himself. "I mean, that's sick. That's awesome. I like that."</p><p>Henry's mouth started cracking into a wide smile, and Alex was beginning to panic.</p><p>"Alex," Henry said, with an inexplicable giddiness in his tone. "I'm gay." He didn't say it like it was a revelation, he said it like it was an obvious piece of information he thought was hilarious he had to remind Alex of.</p><p>"Oh!" Alex replied. "That's cool!"</p><p>Henry giggled. "That's cool," he said, mimicking Alex's accent.</p><p>"What? That's cool, dude! I'm happy you have that going for you." </p><p>Henry's giggling turned into eye-scrunching laughter. </p><p>"<em>What?</em>" Alex insisted, but Henry's laughter was contagious and Alex found himself joining in. He pulled Henry into an affectionate one-armed hug and Henry gladly settled into it. Once Henry calmed down a bit, they pulled apart.</p><p>"Are you actually surprised, or are you just being polite?" Henry asked. </p><p>“You mean you thought I knew?”</p><p>“I thought I made it sort of obvious.”</p><p>“Like how?”</p><p>"What about the time the MUN kids were leaving for the conference in all their formal wear and I told you I'd let Taylor Barnett eat me up as long as he did it in that suit?"</p><p>Alex's jaw fell open, but the words didn't come out for a moment or two. "Did you say… I must have thought that was just you, being, like, quirky or something!"</p><p>Henry covered his mouth with his hands endearingly, apparently shocked at Alex’s obliviousness. </p><p>“Wait, I’m trying to remember…” Alex put his head in his hands. “Hold up. Taylor Barnett?”</p><p>“Yes,” Henry laughed. </p><p>“Henry, that’s the girl one.”</p><p>Henry’s face dropped. “What?”</p><p>“Taylor Barnett is the girl one. Did you mean Taylor Burton?”</p><p>“Goddammit!” Henry shouted. “Why do their names sound the <em>exact bloody same</em>? But I must have said <em>he</em>, mustn’t I?”</p><p>“And I must have not noticed. Or thought it was a slip of the tongue. ‘Cause both the Taylors are in MUN.”</p><p>The two of them looked at each other and burst into another fit of laughter at the absurdity of the miscommunication. </p><p>“For the record,” Henry starts. “That was <em>definitely</em> not the only gay thing I’ve said to you the entire time we’ve been friends.”</p><p>Hearing Henry verbalize their friendship made Alex feel really happy for some odd reason. Maybe he’d needed more friends. But looking back, maybe he didn’t. Maybe this was enough. More than enough, even.</p><p>“Do your cousins know?” Alex asked. </p><p>Henry was quiet for a beat. “It’s the reason I live with them.”</p><p>Alex felt like he’d been hit in the chest. </p><p>Henry ended up telling him everything. About the day his dad found a bit of gay porn in his history but chalked it up to a young man exploring himself. He thought if they didn’t discuss it further, it’d go away. But about a year later he discovered his parents had never stopped searching through his things, and when they found the queer history research paper he’d been working on in his spare time along with his e-mail correspondence with another gay boy from school, shit hit the fan. </p><p>“There wasn’t even anything romantic going on between us, Alex.”</p><p>Alex just nodded, wide-eyed, listening intently like he had been this whole time. </p><p>“We bitched to each other about homophobic things we’d heard at school and gushed about our respective crushes. My parents were convinced two gay boys couldn’t possibly be just friends.”</p><p>Henry sighed and started fidgeting with his fingers. Alex fought the urge to ask him to go on, torn between wanting him to take the time he needed and wanting desperately to hear more.</p><p>“Anyway, they confiscated my shit. Phone, laptop. Mum even slipped a few select books out of my shelf when I was at school, thinking I might not notice they’d gone missing.”</p><p>They did this, Alex learned, thinking if Henry focused on his studies and didn’t have anything to <em>influence</em> him, he’d eventually take back calling himself gay, the way he had many times, explicitly, in the emails. Or just not say anything and… turn straight? Henry told Alex he signed up for as many extracurriculars as he could cram into his schedule.</p><p>“I just didn’t…” Henry swallowed. Alex leaned into him. “I didn’t want—” Alex slung an arm over his shoulder and rubbed his back gently. When Henry spoke again, his voice wasn’t wavering anymore. “I just didn’t want to go home, you know? At all. On the weekends—” Henry scoffs, “—Dad hadn’t gone to church in what, nine months? And all of a sudden it was a weekly family affair. And just like they thought ignoring me being gay would make it go away, I thought ignoring what was happening would make it… less real? So I didn’t talk to anyone about it. Not even Bea.”</p><p>“Bea?”</p><p>“My sister,” Henry clarified. At the time, Alex didn’t know Henry had a sister.</p><p>“All I said to that friend, Mo, was that my parents were suspicious of me so we should stop emailing, to be careful. It wasn’t a huge deal. He understood, and we talked… sometimes, at school. I mean, we had very different friend groups. It wasn’t that easy.</p><p>“And then one day it was just the last straw.” Henry’s voice went out on the last word and he reached for his water bottle. After taking a sip, he said “Sorry, I don’t usually talk this much.”</p><p>“Don’t worry,” Alex said with a small laugh. “Go on.”</p><p>“Right.” He takes another sip. “So they eventually caught on to the fact that I was cramming my schedule with activities and clubs.” Alex couldn’t help but notice the way Henry pronounced <em>schedule</em> like <em>shedjule</em>. It sounded nice coming out of him. “But they didn’t want me out so much. I think they thought I was lying, that I was going and fucking a different boy every night.” </p><p>This startled a laugh out of Alex, and Henry laughed back. There was a weight to both of them, though. An unmoving heaviness. </p><p>“Little did they know I was a big fat virgin.” </p><p><em>Was?</em> Alex couldn’t help the curiosity that bubbled up inside of him, but decided now was not the time to ask.</p><p>“They made me switch to online school towards the end of Year Twelve. Eleventh in the States.”</p><p>A little involuntary gasp escaped Alex.</p><p>Henry looked at him wearily. “Yeah. And for those few months, Alex. Oh my god. I can’t even begin to— They barely spoke to me at all. I mean, I guess we hadn’t been talking much ever since they found out, but now that I was home so much it... They would not leave me alone for a second of the day, unless they were asleep. It was horrible. But silent. They made me eat every meal at the dining table, and when I had to work, they gave me my laptop and my mum sat by me the entire time I used it.” His voice cracked at the end of the sentence and Alex saw a tear slip out of his eyes, glinting in the sunlight. Alex thought he might cry, too, but he focused his energy into holding onto Henry, hoping to divert it from his own simmering emotions. Then Henry leaned against Alex’s shoulder and began to cry more, harder. </p><p>“Hey,” Alex whispered, feeling like he should say something but still having no idea what.</p><p>“Sorry,” Henry said through a sob.</p><p>“It’s totally okay.”</p><p>Alex doesn’t remember how long he held Henry like that, but he eventually asked him to finish the story, he thinks, and Henry did.</p><p>“Right. The last straw.” </p><p>One night, Henry pretended he had a huge homework assignment to get done so he could take some time to browse through his laptop and message the couple of friends who he’d told his phone was acting out. His mom was sitting in a chair in his room, doing her own thing but still a looming, persistent presence. Henry’s computer screen wasn’t in her line of vision.</p><p>“I told her I was going to the bathroom, snuck into my sister’s room and wrote her card details on my hand, then, basically stole nearly three hundred pounds off of it buying a ticket to Austin.”</p><p>“Oh my god, what the fuck?” Alex exclaimed.</p><p>Henry laughed indulgently. “Yeah, I was so fucking angry and scared and frustrated—” frust<em>rated</em>, Alex thought, “—that I just snapped. I gave myself a week. I found where they were hiding my phone and all and.”</p><p>“You left.”</p><p>“I left. I told my cousin before I came. I didn’t tell her I’d already bought the ticket, I asked if I could come. We’d always been really close when she lived in London, then she moved here to be with her boyfriend. They met online.”</p><p>Henry’s cousin and her boyfriend. He always referred to them both as his cousins.</p><p>“It was supposed to be a short term thing. I had to get away. Maybe revel in scaring my parents a bit. I told Bea I was leaving as I was on my way to the airport.”</p><p>“Henry,” Alex said in disbelief.</p><p>“She was really upset. But she wasn’t mad I used her credit card. She knew how things had been at home. She tried a few times to ask me how I was but I shrugged her off. On that day, when I was in the car, she begged me to come back and try to work things out, to stay with a friend for a while maybe.</p><p>“But that wasn’t an option. The only people I felt comfortable enough asking to take me in were some of my other relatives who lived there, and in that case my parents would just… come and get me. And I didn’t want to involve any of them.</p><p>“I was able to finish my studies that year since I was already online. My cousin and her boyfriend were willing to take me in for a while when I told them what was happening, and… well, I just kept postponing my trip home. They told me I could stay for the summer. I stayed. They told me I could go back whenever I was ready, but I wasn’t ready, and I was about to overstay my, well, legally allotted time.”</p><p>Henry’s cousin came into the guest-bedroom-turned-Henry’s one day, and Henry thought it was to finally tell him it was time to go. But instead, she offered to help him apply for a Visa.</p><p>“And now here I am,” Henry finishes, as if he just told Alex how he spent his evening yesterday and not the whirlwind of a story he just did. </p><p>“Wow,” Alex said, taking it all in. “So you haven’t seen your parents since then, right?”</p><p>“They came.”</p><p>Alex felt his eyes widen. Henry grimaced.</p><p>“They begged me to come back, they were acting really apologetic and I seriously considered it. I thought they had realized what they’d done and that they intended to make up for it.</p><p>“But my cousin and I, we talked about it. In depth. And she, god bless her soul, actually wanted me to stay. And she said I was welcome to go home, too, of course. There were just a few things my parents said that seemed… off, and I discussed them with her the night after they made their case. I can’t get into all right now but we deduced that things wouldn’t actually get much better if I went home, and since I only had one year left until university anyway, I should stay.”</p><p>“I literally can’t believe this. You’re really fucking brave, Hen.”</p><p>“I ran.”</p><p>“You stood up for yourself.”</p><p>Henry smiled. “I guess so.”</p><p>For a moment they sat silently by each other.</p><p>“Very badass of you. Truly.”</p><p>Henry laughed again. “Thank you,” he nodded. He stretched lazily and Alex remembers thinking, as he saw him stretch, how boyish and young he looked. And how he could barely even try to fathom how his body was holding all of that inside it. </p><p>“And for the record…” Alex waited for Henry to look him in the eye, then followed the inexplicable urge to reach for his hand. He wanted him to know he meant what he was about to say. “I’m—I’m really glad you stayed.”</p><p>“It’s been hard, but.” Henry paused. “I think I am, too.” </p><p>Alex nodded, and they removed their hands from each other’s.</p><p>“You know,” Henry started, his lighthearted tone dissolving the charged air that hung between them. “There are a lot of things you don’t think about when running away internationally.”</p><p>“Oh yeah? I can’t imagine. What kind of things?”</p><p>“Well… like, Visas, for one. The fact that your phone number stops working. That was a nasty surprise, although I should have known. I’ve been on vacation. Also that the American boys will be so darn cute.”</p><p>Alex laughed at the last one. “I’m gonna pretend that was directed at me and say thank you.”</p><p>Henry shot him an indecipherable look. “You’re most welcome.”</p><p>“We should probably go back,” Alex said without conviction, looking over at the school building.</p><p>“Probably,” Henry agreed, in the same tone.</p><p>They ended up talking more, unsurprisingly. Alex wasn’t keeping track of the time, but eventually, they heard the school bell ring out from the building and saw students start to trickle out of the doors.</p><p>“I suppose we’re not going back today,” Henry said with a smile.</p><p>“I guess not,” Alex smiled back.</p><p>Alex yawns as he finishes recounting this story in his journal, flipping through what he’s written so far and finding himself shocked at the amount of narration and introspection he got done tonight. Maybe June was right about this journaling thing. The nerves were minimal when he let his thoughts wander back to tomorrow’s presentation, the thing that had prompted him to finally start writing in the journal in the first place.</p><p>And then, as Alex reclines on the sofa of his New York apartment and reaches down to scratch an itch on his leg, the origami crane tattooed on his ankle catches his eye, and he starts to think about it in a way he hasn’t thought about it in a long time.</p><p>It was always a symbolic marker of the end of his high school career, of him stepping into his next phase of life and, hopefully, that his <em>wish would come true</em>. His wish was large and abstract, but so was the Japanese tradition, as far as Henry had explained. It was the week Alex was leaving for Georgetown. Henry had gotten into UT Austin. They were celebrating and Alex had the ridiculous and wild idea to get matching tattoos, and Henry agreed, as long as he got to pick what they were. </p><p>Alex could see how giddy and reckless Henry was feeling, but above all he looked <em>free</em>. And looking at it now, Alex can’t believe he didn’t realize that the <em>hope and healing</em> part of the crane’s meaning might have been what Henry, for himself, was focused on. </p><p>Henry’s is on the inside of his right arm.</p><p>Alex stares at his journal page. </p><p>
  <em>Matching tattoos, and yet we never even hung out again.</em>
</p><p>Alex starts to flip over to the pages he filled and read them over.</p><p>And pretty soon, he starts to laugh. It’s a genuine, surprised laugh. He can’t believe it. When he texted Henry to meet up over winter break and Henry replied days later, flaking, hurting Alex’s feelings a bit but eventually causing him to come to terms with the fact that maybe their friendship just wasn’t one that could stand the test of time, did he know? Did Henry know?</p><p>Was Henry in even deeper than he was?</p><p>Henry tucking a curl behind his ear when saying goodnight, a hand lingering on his waist after they hugged, Alex telling himself it was just his gay friend being comfortable showing affection to his guy friend. But Alex’s heart stuttering at these touches? Feeling warm all over? Alex always wanting them to last? Alex initiating some of them? Alex thinking about…</p><p>Alex told himself it was normal to think about doing those things with your best friend. Especially if they were gay. It kind of just… naturally popped into your mind. A <em>what if?</em></p><p>But a lot has happened over the past six years. For one, Alex realized he’s bisexual. Two, he made a few good friends.</p><p>They aren’t the last thing he thinks about when he falls asleep and the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up. </p><p>He reaches over to the coffee table and grabs his phone, seeing <em>2:06 AM</em> stare back at him. He’d seriously lost track of time. He couldn’t be exhausted during his presentation at NYU tomorrow. </p><p>But he dials Nora, because <em>this is crazy</em>, and he doesn’t know how he could go to sleep without telling someone. </p><p>She picks up on the third ring, sounding wide awake. </p><p>“Nora!”</p><p>“Are you going down a sleep-deprived spiral?”</p><p>“No! I just realized something!”</p><p>“I can’t wait to know.”</p><p>“Remember my friend from senior year I told you about? Henry?”</p><p>“The British one?”</p><p>“Yes. Nora, I think… I had a crush on him. And maybe, he had a crush on me, too?”</p><p>Nora is silent for a second. “That,” she says, “is very cool.”</p><p>“You don’t sound excited about this. Listen, I’m mind blown.” </p><p>“That is a pretty crazy thing to realize, honestly. Especially at 2 AM. Walk me through the process?”</p><p>“I was just writing in this journal June got me and then—Wait. Did you… know?”</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“When I told you about Henry,” Alex throws himself into an upright position. “Did you sense that I liked him?”</p><p>“Honestly? I thought he was your boyfriend and you just weren’t ready to come out to me yet.”</p><p>A sound of disbelief pushes its way out of Alex’s throat. </p><p>“<em>Nora!</em>”</p><p>“Woah! Easy. What?”</p><p>“You <em>knew</em> I liked him and you never <em>told me</em>?” Alex shouts into the phone. </p><p>Nora bursts into laughter. “Do you realize how ridiculous you sound right now?”</p><p>Alex replays his last words and then finds himself laughing with her. “I actually didn’t. Oh my god, this is crazy.” He rubs a hand across his face. </p><p>“It really is, babe.”</p><p>“Thank you for sharing this moment of revelation with me. I gotta go to sleep now if I’m gonna be able to keep my head up at NYU tomorrow.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah. Good luck with that.”</p><p>“Thanks, I’ll need it. ‘Night, Nora.”</p><p>“‘Night, Alex.”</p><p>As Alex hangs up and makes his way to bed, he remembers to check for a response to the email he’d sent to the NYU event organizers regarding the materials he needed for when he went up to speak and take questions. </p><p>
  <em>Mr. Claremont-Diaz,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Thank you for reaching out! As your segment is going to take place in the library, the head librarian, Henry, can answer any questions you have about what materials will be available to you. You can reach him at head.lib@nyu.edu. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>We look forward to having you!</em><br/>
<em>Allison Paige</em><br/>
<em>Division of Social Sciences at NYU</em>
</p><p>Alex smiles to himself. What a coincidence, the guy he needs to talk to being named Henry, after all that’s happened tonight.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>omg, you guys, i just realized that the detail about the librarian named henry made y'all think the librarian is  ACTUALLY henry lmaooo</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>just kidding</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Hi, Henry!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m speaking in the 11 to 1 PM slot in tomorrow’s social science event, and I just wanted to confirm whether there’d be a projector and a poster easel, or something similar, for me to set up my presentation materials. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Thank you,<br/>
Alex Claremont-Diaz</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Mr. Claremont-Diaz,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Both of those will be available to you, and you can come in to set up any time before your presentation, as yours is the first time slot. Good luck tomorrow! Thank you so much for your participation in the event.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Henry<br/>
NYU - Elmer Holmes Bobst Library</em>
</p><p>“You’re early,” the man says, rolling his chair so his head appears from behind the computer screen.</p><p>Alex is dreaming.</p><p>Alex is dreaming. </p><p>Alex is fucking dreaming. </p><p>“Hi, Alex.” He’s smiling.</p><p>Alex drops the stack of things he’s holding ungracefully onto the surface of the desk in front of him: his laptop, a binder, two folded posters. They land with a thud.</p><p>“<em>Henry!</em>” he exclaims, his pitch and volume rising well beyond library-appropriate levels. But who’s going to reprimand him, the librarian?</p><p>Henry laughs delightedly, a bit of soft-looking hair falling out of place as he does so, and makes his way over to the other side of the desk.</p><p>“Alex,” he says, into Alex’s head now, because he’s hugging him.</p><p>Alex gets over his shock enough to hug him back. “<em>Henry.</em>” They pull apart and Alex pats down Henry’s arms. “Yup, you’re real.”</p><p>Henry laughs again, and Alex realizes Henry hasn’t stopped smiling since he saw him. He seems really, genuinely excited to see him. Thank god. Alex doesn’t even want to imagine how differently this would’ve gone if he wasn’t.</p><p>“And so are you. It’s been so long,” Henry says.</p><p>“It’s been a fucking lifetime.”</p><p>Henry looks shocked. “You’re a fancy, sought-after professional now, and you <em>still</em> can’t watch your tongue.” </p><p>“Henry, this is who I <em>am</em> as a person.”</p><p>“Clearly. Now why are you here so abhorrently early?”</p><p>“I was excited! I thought maybe I’d set up early, and then just browse the library if I had extra time?” </p><p>“Hmm, that’s cutting it close.”</p><p>
  <em>Oh?</em>
</p><p>“Plug a cable into a laptop, place a poster on a stand, <em>and</em> browse the library? With only nearly an hour and a half to do it? That’s very ambitious of you.”</p><p>Alex realized where he was going with that halfway through. “Henry, shut up! I got jittery.” Henry’s quick wit brings a heat to Alex’s cheeks that’s so fun and familiar, so like when they used to tease each other back in senior year.</p><p>“Well if you catch a spare minute after your preparations, I do hope you find time to explore our modest selection.” Henry gestures ungrandly at the looming ceiling, the rows of shelves filling up floors and floors above them. </p><p>Henry shows Alex where to set up and leaves him to it. Once he’s done, he ends up weaving through seemingly endless rows of shelves, barely registering titles or absorbing jacket descriptions as he finds himself unable to wipe this smile off of his face. What were the odds? That on this day of all days, he’d cross paths with Henry. He replays their short conversation over and over in his head. Henry was glowing. Alex finds himself wanting to go over and catch up with him more, find out how they both ended up here, ask him anything and everything, but he doesn’t want to overstep, and Henry is working. Would Henry even want to catch up, or was he fine just to say hi and go about their business? Also, did Henry know he was coming? Had he read the names of people presenting today? He must have. That was why he didn’t seem surprised to see Alex. But Alex wanted to ask. He wanted to ask him everything. But he didn’t wa—</p><p>“Hey.” </p><p>Alex’s head jerks around.</p><p>“Hey,” Alex says back, with way more enthusiasm than could possibly come off cool. Henry doesn’t seem to mind. </p><p>“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I was just wondering if, while you waited, maybe… you’d like to go grab a coffee. Or something. Together? And catch up?”</p><p>“Oh! Yes. I’d really, really like that.”</p><p>“Perfect.” He smiles a soft, handsome smile, and Alex has the ridiculous thought that his eyes light up. </p><p><em>Henry’s eyes didn’t </em>light up<em> at the prospect of coffee with a guy that he knew for less than a year in high school</em>, Alex tells himself. <em>Henry just has… nice eyes.</em></p><p>“There’s this place a few blocks away where we could go.”</p><p>“Okay, sure. Right now?”</p><p>“If that’s fine?”</p><p>“Totally.”</p><p>Henry leads the way, and as he holds open the library door for Alex, Alex asks him whether he knew he was coming.</p><p>“You emailed me last night, darling.”</p><p>
  <em>Of course!</em>
</p><p>“I didn’t even know it was you! I did think of you when I saw the name, though.”</p><p>“And I saw your full name.”</p><p>On the walk there, Henry asks Alex what his presentation is going to be about, and Alex tells him about his work at the think tank, Human Rights Watch, and what started as polite small talk turns into an enthusiastic back and forth. </p><p>The cafe Henry brought Alex to ends up being large but indie-looking, and when Henry is giving their order to the cashier he does it with a calm confidence Alex had never seen him have with strangers when they were younger. Alex notices the girl behind the second counter’s half-shaved head and eyebrow ring, and when the guy taking their order speaks, Alex notes that he sounds, well, gay.</p><p>Soon they’re seated, and Alex is asking how on earth Henry ended up in New York, and he tells him about his first miserable year of college as a computer science major. He eventually switched to history and was, “Loving every day of it, but terrified that I was wasting my time and my loans and the money borrowed from my cousins. I had potential as what, a museum curator? And I, well, let’s just say I wanted to be off my cousins’ backs as quickly as possible. They’d already done so much for me. I needed to think of a more solid way to do it.”</p><p>Henry hadn’t realized that becoming a librarian was an actual career until mid-way through his history degree.</p><p>“I’d never thought of it before, but it felt right.”</p><p>“You as a librarian. Why does that make so much sense?”</p><p>“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment.”</p><p>“An observation. But like you’re this hot, young librarian, obviously. How much you wanna bet at least fifteen students come to the library regularly just to catch a glimpse of your face?”</p><p>“Oh, Alex, I keep a list of those who do,” Henry says, taking a sip of his tea.</p><p>“Wait, seriously?”</p><p>“No! Of course not!”</p><p>“Oh! For a second I thought you really—” Alex erupts into a cackle that turns a few heads their way, and Henry shakes his head incredulously, laughing more quietly and placing a hand on Alex’s shoulder.</p><p>“<em>Shh.</em>”</p><p>“Of course you would shush me.”</p><p>Henry takes his balled-up napkin and tosses it at Alex. “I swear, if you make <em>one</em> more librarian joke!”</p><p>They’re falling into each other a little as they laugh, and Alex is leaning forward and just barely pressing a hand against Henry’s chest, just for a moment, and it feels natural and right. He starts to ask himself whether it’s because they’ve always been comfortable touching each other or because of what he realized last night. Is something resurfacing?</p><p>Alex decides it doesn’t fucking matter. He loves this, spending time with Henry, reconnecting, and if they end up friends again, he’d love that. If this is a one-time thing, or an occasional thing, that’s great, too. And if this is… Well, he’s open to anything. He’s not going to hold back, or think about what’s next. He deserves to just <em>be</em> sometimes.</p><p>“It’s not like you aren’t a bit of an anomaly yourself,” Henry starts.</p><p>“Meaning?”</p><p>“I mean, when you think of a think tank… But look at you with your little outfit.” He gestures at Alex’s crisp black button down paired with black chinos. Alex looks down at it.</p><p>“Not the peak of traditional formality,” Henry says. “But a wonderful mix of proper and trendy. You’ve always dressed well.” He takes a sip. </p><p>“Yeah, I considered wearing a suit to this,” Alex responds. “I wanted the students to know that poli sci and my type of job aren’t just for stuffy old white men, though, you know?”</p><p>Henry nods, and eventually they backtrack and Henry finishes telling Alex about how he got his master’s in library science in one year online, “As you know, I was already a bit experienced in the realm of online schooling.”</p><p>Alex raises his eyebrows.</p><p>“Sorry, bad joke?” Henry asks, taking another sip.</p><p>“No, no, it’s okay. God, I’m just. I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Hen.”</p><p>“Well, I’m… I’m really glad you were there when I did.” He looks up at him. “You made one of the hardest years of my life also have some of the… best moments?”</p><p>This makes Alex feel… a lot. A lot of something, and he’s not sure what. So he just reaches out and squeezes Henry’s hand, and Henry squeezes back, and then he looks somewhere over Alex’s shoulder.</p><p>“Oh, look. You’re late.”</p><p>“What?” Alex exclaims, checking the clock on the wall behind him. They’d both lost track of the time, and Alex’s slot had just started. “Oh, no. How long’s the walk again?”</p><p>“Maps says ten minutes, but I’ve never actually timed it. If we leave now, it shouldn’t be too big a deal.”</p><p>On the walk back, Henry tells Alex how the NYU opportunity fell into his lap in an unexpected way, and how despite it being an expensive and hectic place to live, he thought it’d be worth experiencing.</p><p>“Especially for the queer culture, Alex. The community here, they’re so lively.” </p><p>“Aren’t they?”</p><p>Henry looks over at him almost questioningly. “Yeah, especially when you actively seek out queer spots.”</p><p>Alex realizes he hasn’t mentioned it. </p><p>“Oh, yeah, I’m bi, by the way.”</p><p>Henry smiles wide. “Wonderful.” </p><p>Alex looks back at him and returns the smile.</p><p>“Yeah, it is.”</p><p>When they return, Henry checks the time on his computer. “Only took us six minutes,” he says.</p><p>“Maps doesn’t give the gay ETA,” Alex says.</p><p>“You must be right. Now go! They’re probably waiting for you.”</p><p>So Alex does, a skip in his step and a smile on his face the whole way there. </p><p>Alex arrives at the stage, out of breath, apologizing for being late, and talks to this crowd of students, students studying law and econ and anthropology and philosophy, about his work and his passion and about Human Rights Watch. And he lets them ask questions regarding his journey and the importance of networking and experience. And it’s exciting and makes his heart swell up looking at every student and listening to every voice and feeling like he’s a part of something bigger than himself.</p><p>It’s always been what Alex wanted most, to be a part of something bigger than himself.</p><p>Then, when Alex is asking the crowd if there are any more questions, he sees a hand shoot up, and it’s him! It’s Henry. Alex doesn’t even know when Henry showed up or how long he’s been here, but Alex smiles and points at Henry and calls on him, and Henry says this: “Is it a requirement in your field to be as charming as you are, or is that just an added bonus?”</p><p>And Alex gets deja vu to presenting a project in twelfth grade and Henry asking a silly question after he was done, just to poke at him and see how well he could keep his cool. Alex’s cheeks are burning and he’s grinning like an idiot. Henry is biting down his own smile.</p><p>Alex clears his throat. “Well, interpersonal skills are important if you’re presenting your research or trying to sway policymakers your way, but ultimately in a think tank it’s your writing and research skills that’ll get you far.”</p><p>“Thank you.” </p><p>Henry’s a little ways away, but if Alex’s eyes serve him right, there’s a good-banter blush climbing up his cheeks as well.</p><p>“You’re welcome. Any more questions?”</p><p>Soon Alex is packing up, and a couple students come up to him thanking him for his time and his words, and one student mentions Alex’s boyfriend, and Alex is confused.</p><p>“The one who asked the question?”</p><p>“Oh!” Alex laughs. “No, he’s just an old friend of mine.”</p><p>The student backtracks. “Oh, sorry! I just assumed.”</p><p>“Don’t worry about it,” Alex reassures.</p><p>As Alex is on his way out, he stops to say goodbye to Henry, and Henry asks him if he’s heading home. He tells him he’s famished and is probably going to grab a bite to eat first. And the next words just tumble out of his mouth. He glances at his watch and asks Henry if he’s had lunch and whether he might want to join him. </p><p>Henry opens his mouth, pauses, raises a finger, and texts someone on his phone for what seems like an agonizingly long while but is probably no longer than three minutes. He then retrieves a smooth leather messenger bag from somewhere beneath his desk and stands up.</p><p>“What are we having?”</p><p>Alex brings Henry to one of his favorite spots, where the decor is bright white and orange. They order drinks, they order sides, they order food. Henry is unendingly polite and articulate when they do. </p><p>Henry is also a bit warm, as he admits a few minutes into waiting for their meal. Alex tries to ignore the carnal reaction he has to watching Henry slip his black sweater off of his dress shirt.</p><p>Henry compliments Alex on his presentation, and they browse through the menus together, and eventually they slip into a rapid exchange of stories, outlandish ones about coworkers, friends, and life in New York. They’re tripping over each other’s sentences. Henry even eventually asks Alex about how and when he realized he was bi.</p><p>The occasional high school story or two comes up, too. The awkward fizzling out of their friendship stays safely off-limits as they recall more funny and lighthearted memories, at one point vehemently disagreeing on the exact details of a specific incident.</p><p>There’s a fresh pizza between them, which they’re sharing, and Alex asks Henry why he hasn’t even once dipped his slice into one of the two sauces Alex ordered on the side. Henry tells Alex he’s just not a sauce person and Alex counters that there’s no such thing, not with sauces this good. So Alex tears off a piece and dips it into the ceramic sauce cup, Henry looking at it surprisedly but with a glint in his eye like he’s accepting the challenge, and Alex feeds him the bite, his other hand cupped just under Henry’s chin. </p><p>Henry looks away from Alex and smiles, then proceeds to take sauce with nearly every bite.</p><p>Alex watches him with a smirk.</p><p>“It’s good.” Henry shrugs defensively, a smile on his lips all the while.</p><p>As they wrap up, their lunch having lasted significantly longer than any lunch Alex has been on recently, Alex asks Henry if he’s on his way back to work.</p><p>“Well, I took—I have the rest of the day off,” Henry says. “Do you have plans?”</p><p>“Chill on my couch for the rest of the evening, I guess,” Alex replies.</p><p>“You know… I haven’t spent a Saturday just, <em>out</em>, in a while,” Henry says as they’re on their way out.</p><p>Alex looks up at him. Henry was always a little taller than him, but the difference is more noticeable now than it was when they were teenagers.</p><p>“Neither have I,” he admits.</p><p>And that’s how the two of them end up elbow-to-elbow at a nearby theater, waiting for the beginning of a film that neither of them know much about, but have both heard great reviews of.</p><p>Even though they just finished a huge, late lunch, Alex insists on buying them a large tub of popcorn—“Because it’s part of the <em>experience</em>, Henry. How are you gonna see a whole movie in theaters and have <em>no</em> popcorn?”</p><p>“Maybe when I was a little younger,” Henry says. “But, god, my stomach just can’t do it anymore.”</p><p>But it only takes two trailers for him to be dipping his hands in, daintily taking just one kernel at a time. </p><p>“Aw, Henry. What about your poor old stomach?” Alex whispers, poking Henry’s stomach with his index finger.</p><p>Henry lurches a bit in his seat, startled by the touch, and a few people look their way as Alex tries to suppress his laughter.</p><p>“You can’t seriously expect me not to, when this massive tub of buttery goodness is <em>right here</em>.”</p><p>“I don’t remember you using buttery in a positive way before.”</p><p>“Yes, well, Texas rubs off on a person,” Henry says. </p><p>When it’s only been twenty minutes or so into the movie, and Alex has turned to whisper his thoughts into Henry’s ear for what might be the fifth time thus far, Henry turns his face back towards Alex’s a little. </p><p>“Do you <em>ever</em> stop talking?” he asks. Followed by, after the shortest pause, “Don’t actually stop, please. I love your commentary.”</p><p>The next time Alex whispers something to Henry, Henry says Alex smells nice. “Better than the cologne you used to steal from your father.”</p><p> “Agh, no!” Alex covers his face with his hands. “Why do you remember that?”</p><p>Alex thinks vaguely that it’s amazing they’re bouncing off each other’s words and energies so easily, but after all that’s happened today, well, the nervousness he felt at the idea of approaching Henry this morning in the library feels so unnecessary. This comfortable interaction feels like the only way things could have gone. It makes so much sense, feels so right. Like they’ve simply... fallen back into place.</p><p>And as they reach into the popcorn at the same time and Alex feels the soft brush of Henry’s fingers against his, and they simultaneously decide to try to push the other’s hand away instead of pulling their own out of the tub like Alex would do with, well, literally anyone but maybe June or Nora, Alex catches a glimpse of Henry’s right forearm, noticing that at some point, Henry rolled his sleeves up in immaculately precise folds, and Alex sees that the origami crane tattoo is nowhere to be found. He feels a shot of emotion he can’t explain before Henry’s left arm comes into view, rising to cover his mouth as he laughs at their hand-scuffle. </p><p><em>Henry’s tattoo is on his </em>left<em> arm.</em> </p><p>
  <em>How did Alex forget?</em>
</p><p>Alex watches Henry’s laugh fizzle out, watches the lights change color as they reflect off of the curves of his face and neck, and in the darkness of the cinema, Alex allows himself the thought that maybe this is their chance. </p><p>Maybe this is their chance, to slot even further into place than they ever did before.</p><p>As they walk out of the theater into the dark evening, Alex is trying but failing to pay attention to Henry’s words. He keeps thinking he needs to <em>do</em> something, but he just doesn’t know what.</p><p>Should he say something? What would he even say?</p><p>Should he… kiss him? <em>No!</em> That’s too… sudden. And overwhelming, for the end of their first day together in years. Also what if—oh, that would be mortifying. What if Henry has a boyfriend? </p><p>Unless he doesn’t, unless Henry really does feel the same way. But what are the odds, even if he did have a crush on Alex back in high school, that it lasted this long? Or that it’s coming back? And if Henry is so comfortable around Alex and so willing to look back on old memories together, then why did he never try to spend time with him again after they graduated? Why did he stop trying to reach out, and not reciprocate when Alex did?</p><p>All of a sudden, Alex realizes Henry is waiting for a reply to something he said. Alex looks at Henry’s gorgeous face and intelligently asks, “Huh?”</p><p>“Bowls. I forgot that I needed to buy bowls for my apartment. I’ve been putting it off.”</p><p>Alex panics, realizing that this night of theirs might be coming to a close and not wanting it to be because he wants to <em>tell</em> Henry, or at least <em>ask</em> Henry something, anything—</p><p>“Maybe I could help you pick them out,” Alex says, not joking at all, but hoping it’s a weird enough suggestion that Henry will take it as a joke if he doesn’t want Alex’s company on his errand run. Alex would also just love to stay by Henry’s side for a very long, undetermined amount of time. </p><p>Alex finds himself in a taxi with Henry, and unlike most of their day, this car ride is mostly silent, Henry looking out the window, prompting Alex to do so too, not trusting himself to not give away everything with his eyes if he looks at Henry for even a second in this intimate, enclosed space.</p><p>Soon enough they’re in a brightly lit HomeGoods. Henry has picked out a set of bowls with a floral pattern on the edges, and as he’s inspecting each closely and placing them in his shopping basket, Alex teases, “So English of you.”</p><p>Henry grins and says, “Shove off.”</p><p>“<em>Shove off</em>.” Alex mimics in Henry’s accent.</p><p>Henry proceeds to actually, lightly, shove Alex, and Alex shoves back a little bit, but it’s with a little more force than he intended, because Henry loses his balance a little and almost drops the bowl he’s holding. His eyes widen in surprise or fear or some combination of the two, but Alex reaches out and grabs the bowl before it can fall, and they laugh and laugh about it, and Henry places his hand on Alex’s shoulder as they do, and Alex is freaking out because <em>oh my god, his laugh and his face and his hand and Alex’s arm and—</em></p><p>And then they’re waiting outside of the store. Alex can smell the chill in the air, and Henry is sitting on a display chair with a white cushion, his bag of bowls on his arm. When Henry decided to order an Uber to take them both home, Alex simply agreed, but he was getting more and more antsy by the second, still feeling that urge that wouldn’t let him go, to <em>do</em>, just, <em>anything</em>! He tried to convince himself he was fine with nothing else happening tonight; they had a good—an amazing—day, and Alex could get Henry’s number and they could see each other again sometime. </p><p>And just as he’s convincing himself of this, Alex notices that a certain pop-rock song that played on the radio every other minute their entire senior year is playing over the store’s loudspeakers.</p><p>It’s a great fucking song, so Alex, just, starts to dance to it. In a bit of a silly way, but he’s really feeling it, earning him a few passing glances from other shoppers exiting the store, but the only gaze Alex is concerned with is Henry’s. Henry, who’s looking up at him, questioning but indulgent, as he stands and stretches and yawns and says, “Well you clearly haven’t changed.” And it’s not mean or backhanded at all, but affectionate, like this is something Henry’s always loved about him.</p><p>“<em>At all?</em>” Alex asks.</p><p>“I mean,” Henry says, thinking. “You’re not <em>exactly</em> the same.” He walks over to and leans against a pillar near where Alex is still subtly moving his body to the beat. </p><p>“In what ways have I changed?”</p><p>“Well, you’re even more gorgeous than I remember.”</p><p>A few things happen at once.</p><p>One, Alex’s brain registers how Henry pronounces “well” like “wew”, and how he used to think about it a lot back then. It’s cute.</p><p>Two, he stops moving.</p><p>If this had happened earlier today, Alex thinks faintly, he probably wouldn’t have frozen up like this. If Henry had said those same words over coffee before the presentation this morning, Alex would’ve laughed and given him a bright smile and shot a compliment back.</p><p>But this isn’t this morning. This is now, after Alex’s mind has in vain attempted to run through every bit of interaction he’s shared with Henry today, in order to come to a reasonable conclusion about whether or not Henry seems open to something other than just rekindling a friendship.</p><p>
  <em>You’re even more gorgeous than I remember.</em>
</p><p><em>Even</em> more?</p><p>“I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch.” Henry’s voice is quiet. “And I’m sorry I just flaked when you tried to meet up in winter break.”</p><p>Alex is so taken aback, and he doesn’t even try to wave it off and tell Henry not to worry about it, because when Henry says it, it tears open the memory and the feeling of not knowing or understanding why this person he cared about so much and felt so connected to had simply acted like the relationship they shared was… was… not important? Not worth keeping alive? Alex remembers all of a sudden how it felt, freshman year of college, trying not to acknowledge what he was losing, and feeling horrible and hurt once he eventually accepted it was happening.</p><p>Alex can’t find words. </p><p>“I,” Henry laughs in a dismissive way, “I hope this doesn’t sound bizarre or anything but… maybe after all this time you won’t be surprised? I had this enormous crush on you for forever.”</p><p>Alex can’t believe he’s hearing Henry say it out loud. After yesterday, after the journaling, after the call with Nora. The very next night, Alex is standing in front of Henry, something he never could’ve anticipated just twenty-four hours ago, and Henry is confirming the less certain part of last night’s realization: that he liked Alex back.</p><p>“And of course, I loved you as a friend, but I was feeling so much more, and after you left for university, I just thought, it’d be better if I don’t keep seeing him once in a while and never get over this hopeless crush. I should just… let us fade.” Henry looks at Alex. “Maybe, having recently moved to Austin and ripped myself away from so much of my life, I felt it wouldn’t be a big deal ripping another thing out.”</p><p>Alex wonders if he heard Henry’s voice just crack as he looks back at him, fixated, and tries to absorb all of this. </p><p>“Maybe I should have told you, I don’t know.” Henry pauses, and then he lets out a large sigh. “And now we’re here.”</p><p>“Hey,” Alex says gently, finally managing to form actual words. “Don't say that like it's a bad thing.” </p><p>Henry’s beautiful, kind, perfect, blue eyes look directly into Alex’s. </p><p>And Alex can’t believe it, but they’re standing too close for him to have any doubt about it. There are tears welling up in Henry’s eyes.</p><p>“It was five years ago, sweetheart,” Alex says. “It’s okay.”</p><p><em>Do you still want me now?</em> he thinks, but he can’t quite get the question out.</p><p>He decides that he can’t live with not knowing, and what better time to find out than right the hell now? </p><p>And so Alex kisses him. </p><p>Gently. He leans in close and closes his eyes and braces a hand against Henry’s chest, and kisses him. And he <em>feels</em> the tension in Henry’s shoulders release, and Henry leans in so willingly that Alex doesn’t even register that Henry isn’t kissing him back, until he is. </p><p>He feels Henry’s lips move against his, and Henry’s hands wrap around his waist and pull him in so close that Alex has to remove his hand from Henry’s chest and bring it around his neck, the other making its way to the back of Henry’s head, lacing his fingers through his hair.</p><p>His senses are at maximum capacity in the best way. He feels almost overwhelmed taking in the soapy scent of Henry, the soft, warm feeling of his breath, his hair between Alex’s fingers, his sturdy frame underneath his arm, Henry’s arms wrapped around him and holding him close. The mundane but wonderful, grounding, feeling of Henry’s lips, and the faintest trace of butter from the popcorn they shared earlier reminding Alex of how perfect and unbelievable this entire situation is, is just the right amount of too much.</p><p>They pull apart, a little out of breath. Henry laughs a little and Alex just fully is going to swoon.</p><p>“I was in love with you,” Henry whispers, as if he hadn’t already made that clear.</p><p>“I was in love with you too,” Alex whispers back, and as he says it he knows for sure that it’s true. </p><p>“And…” Alex says. “I might be—I mean, I think it could…” He searches Henry’s face like it might have the answer, and Henry kisses him again, and that seems as good an answer as any. It only lasts a moment, though, and leaves Alex desperate for more.</p><p>“E—even if it doesn’t go anywhere,” Henry starts, “I still want you to know that you brought so much light into one of the hardest parts of my life.” Henry’s voice is all wavering and watery. “You were a really good friend.”</p><p> “So were you, Hen.” </p><p>Henry smiles and rubs a hand across Alex’s back.</p><p>“So,” Alex says with a bit of a smirk, “You wanna see if this goes somewhere?”  </p><p>Henry’s smile widens a little as he nods, looking down at Alex’s thumb rubbing the tattoo on his forearm. </p><p>“You still have yours?” Henry asks.</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>Alex cups the side of Henry’s face and they kiss again. It’s amazing, and Alex wonders dizzily why the two of them didn’t start doing this six damn years ago.</p><p>But maybe fate had something better in store for them, maybe they wouldn't have been good for each other then.</p><p>Maybe they would’ve fallen apart, maybe they needed to grow. </p><p>Maybe Henry needed to break out of his shell, and heal, and Alex needed to break out, too, of the pressures of his own head, and maybe they just needed to come back to each other at the right time. Maybe Alex needed to figure things out on his own first.</p><p>Soon Henry would tell Alex that he doesn’t know if it was because he had a chasm in his heart at the time that he needed to fill, or if he was just eighteen and out of his mind, but all he knows is that he’s never been so in love with someone as he was with Alex. Soon they’d laugh about the fact that Henry decided to skip prom because, Henry would admit, he hadn’t wanted to watch Alex be with his date all night. Henry would tell Alex how special he felt when Alex spent the later part of the night hanging out in Henry’s room, just the two of them, even if it was bittersweet, Henry’s sureness at the time that Alex was straight a painful reminder nagging at the back of his mind. </p><p>And soon, just a few seconds after they stopped kissing, in fact, and spotted their Uber waiting not-so-patiently for them, Alex would tell Henry that he hadn’t realized what he felt for Henry until recently. </p><p>“How recently?” Henry would ask.</p><p>“Last night.”</p><p>Alex would tell him the story.</p><p>Soon Alex and Henry would choose each other. To love and keep loving. And maybe, maybe they already had. Maybe they had a long, long time ago. </p><p>Regardless, for Alex and Henry, this and more would happen.</p><p>All in good time.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank u so so so so so so much to everyone who read the first chapter and left kudos n comments, u guys really motivated me to finish this ASAP, while i thought it was going to be pretty random, but a lot of u rly liked it so &lt;333 thank u 🥺</p><p>also! i know it was only two chapters but this is technically the first multichap fic i’ve ever finished so... let’s celebrate!</p><p>also, fun fact: the concept of this chapter was vaguely inspired by tan france’s first date with his husband</p>
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